


Caught In The Undertow

by paperstorm



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Luke wants to touch everywhere, to learn everything, to have this last forever. Maybe he’s wanted it since the day they met. Maybe he just didn’t know it.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught In The Undertow

Michael has nice lips.  
   
Like, really nice. Luke definitely shouldn’t notice things like that, but he does. He notices everything, too much. He notices how green Michael’s eyes are when the sun is shining. It doesn’t happen too often because it takes a minor miracle to convince Michael to spend any amount of time outside, but when Luke does get him outside, his eyes go the color of moss or grass or maybe lime Jell-O. He notices how soft Michael’s hair is. Luke doesn’t, like, touch it. At least not on purpose. But sometimes when he steals the hats off Michael’s head just to bother him, he touches it by accident. And it’s really soft. Luke would like to touch it not by accident some time. He notices Michael’s fingertips are getting calloused, and his nail-beds are all ripped up. He’s been practicing. Luke has too. They’re committed to this, even though everyone tells them it’s stupid and they’ll never make it out of Sydney.  
   
“You’re bleeding,” Luke points out, nodding his nose in the direction of Michael’s left hand.  
   
“Oh.” Michael sticks his thumb into his mouth and sucks at it.  
   
“I had to stop, the other day. I played for like three hours and my fingers fucking hurt.” Luke shudders a bit at the memory.  
   
“It’ll all be worth it when we’re giant rockstars,” Michael says, the words garbled around the thumb still in his mouth.  
   
“Do you think we can really do it?” Luke isn’t always so sure. But then, he’s never as sure of anything as Michael is. Michael’s just confidence and attitude and swagger wrapped up in a body that’s soft and too tall and too loud. Luke doesn’t mind, though. He also gets quiet Michael. Most people don’t.  
   
Michael shrugs. It doesn’t mean _I don’t know_ like it would if someone else had done it; it means _of course_ and _stupid question_. He believes in them fiercely, and it’s all so effortless. Everything about Michael seems effortless.  
   
“Skip maths and come to my house,” Michael says.  
   
Luke shouldn’t. He skipped on Tuesday, so they could record a cover. And he skipped last week too. He’s gonna start getting bad grades – or, _worse_ grades – and then his mum will be mad and maybe she won’t let him do music with Michael anymore, and then everything would be ruined.  All their big, impossible dreams. He really needs to go to class today.  
   
“Okay,” he says.  
   
When Michael didn’t like him, Luke thought he was just another bully like the ones who were mean to him at his old school. Now, Michael is everything. Luke had a few friends, last year, sort of, but he never talks to them anymore. He overheard one of them, just the other day, complaining that _Luke just follows that Clifford guy around all the time now_. He should probably have been offended, but he wasn’t. It’s true, he does. Michael is older and cooler and he always knows exactly what he’s doing. He protects Luke, and Luke doesn’t _need_ protecting, he isn’t some sissy who can’t take care of himself and no one really ever notices him enough to be mean to him these days anyway, but it still feels nice. To know that if someone tried to mess with Luke, Michael would punch him out without thinking twice.  
   
“Are you hungry?” Michael asks. “I think mum bought mini pizza bagels.”  
   
Luke nods, so Michael digs the red box out of the freezer and sets up a plate for the microwave. The house is empty but they go to Michael’s room and close the door behind them anyway. They always do. In case Michael’s mum comes home. They won’t be doing anything she shouldn’t be seeing anyway, but it’s still nice to feel private. Luke likes her, but she smiles this funny smile at him, the way mothers do when they think they know something. Probably, Michael spent all last year complaining about how much he hated Luke, and now Luke’s here all the time and Karen is smug about being right that they could be friends if they just got to know each other. Luke’s own mum certainly is.  
   
“Charlotte asked me out,” Michael says, casually.  
   
Luke’s tummy flips over itself. “Oh.”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“Are. Um. Where are you going?”  
   
Michael rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say yes.” He snatches another mini bagel from the plate and stuffs the whole thing into his mouth.  
   
“Oh,” Luke repeats. He presses his lips together to keep from smiling.  
   
“Sheth ah-oy-nang,” Michael mumbles with a mouth still full of bread and cheese and tomato sauce.  
   
“What?”  
   
Michael swallows. “She’s annoying.”  
   
“I guess.” Luke shifts around a little on the floor. “She’s pretty, though. And she likes you.”  
   
“I’m taking a nap,” Michael decides. “Then we should pick a new song to learn. Something cooler than Justin Bieber this time. Like Nirvana or something.”  
   
He pushes up off the floor and flops ungracefully down into his bed.  
   
For a minute, Luke doesn’t move. He’s waiting to be invited, which is stupid because they always end up in Michael’s bed. They don’t talk about it, it just happens.  This time, it doesn’t feel right. Luke chews at his bottom lip, and thinks about Michael’s. The thing is, Michael has nice lips, and Luke kind of wants to kiss them. He figured that out a few weeks ago, and he doesn’t know what to do with it yet. Michael is his friend, and Luke isn’t gay, because gay isn’t normal and Luke is supposed to be normal, and there are all sorts of problems with the whole situation.  
   
“You’re not Kurt Cobain,” he says, responding way too late to Michael’s comment on their last cover.  
   
“What are you doing?” Michael asks. His toes poke into the side of Luke’s head, tapping it to get his attention.  
   
“Ew, dude, get your foot off me,” Luke complains.  
   
“Turn the light off and come on.”  
   
Luke’s bottom lip goes between his teeth again. He stands up, though, and flicks the light switch, bathing the room in darkness. His tummy keeps flipping but he crawls into bed beside Michael.  
   
“I could be Kurt Cobain,” Michael says. He shifts around to make room for Luke, bouncing him on the mattress, and then his arm slips over Luke’s waist. Luke’s muscles clench and his skin bursts into goosebumps. His shirt’s ridden up, and Michael’s wrist is touching his bare skin, just above his the waistband of his jeans. It’s nothing, but it’s more electrifying than when Kate Warren gave him a handjob after the dance last month. Luke sort of hated that, and then hated himself because he should have liked it. He was panicked for a week, thinking she could tell and would start spreading rumors.  
   
“Don’t kill yourself, though,” Luke answers. His voice shakes. He really hopes Michael doesn’t notice.  
   
“All the coolest artists do,” Michael muses. He moves again, and he’s closer now. His breath tickles Luke’s cheek.  
   
“That’s not funny,” Luke whispers. He doesn’t know what he would do without Michael.  
   
Michael frowns. “Sorry.”  
   
Luke shakes his head. “It’s okay.”  
   
“Why are you being weird?”  
   
“I don’t know.”  
   
“Can I tell you something that’s, like, kinda stupid? You’re not allowed to freak out, though.”  
   
Luke turns his head, looking Michael in the eye. He looks anxious. Luke doesn’t know what that means. “Yeah.”  
   
“I had a dream about you last night.”  
   
“Like a sex dream?” Luke jokes, because he’s uncomfortable, but then Michael’s face does a weird thing. “Fuck, wait, really?”  
   
“No.” Michael smiles a little, like he’s uncertain. “Not like – it wasn’t that. But it was … nice. It was a nice dream.”  
   
“Oh.” Luke swallows because he doesn’t know what else to say. His throat clicks, and it’s so loud. He’s so uncool, he should be cooler. Like Michael.  
   
Michael is so warm. He’s like a furnace, burning Luke up to a crisp. He moves again, just another inch closer, and his ankle hooks over Luke’s. It’s like holding hands, but with feet. The thought makes Luke giggle nervously.  
   
“What?” Michael asks, laughing too.  
   
“Nothing. Sorry.” Luke’s face is so hot. He’s sure it’s bright red, and the embarrassment of it just makes it all worse. He probably looks like a strawberry. So not sexy. Not that he wants to be sexy. It’s Michael in the bed next to him, not a girl, so that would be stupid. Maybe.  
   
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Michael’s fingers curl over Luke’s hip and squeeze. “You always tell me everything and right now you aren’t and I don’t like it.”  
   
Luke shakes his head. His heart thumps in his chest. Michael can probably hear it. “Nothing’s wrong.”  
   
Michael licks his lips. Luke watches, watches his pink tongue poke out and run over his mouth, bright red as always because they’re always chapped. It leaves them shiny. Luke stares for too long, and Michael’s frowning when he looks back up.  
   
“D’you wanna kiss me?” Michael asks, so soft, like worse than a secret, like something that could destroy the world if it got out.  
   
A noise escapes from Luke’s throat, and he can’t control it.  
   
Michael exhales slowly, his forehead still wrinkled in a frown. “Okay, here’s the thing,” he says, broad and grand like he’s about to announce something important. Something life-changing. “Maybe I wanna kiss you too. And if you want that, you gotta tell me, and then I will. But if you don’t then I won’t obviously because that’s gross, so just say that and we never have to talk about it again, and I won’t be weird about it, alright? It won’t ruin our friendship or whatever, so just … just say no. If that’s what you want.”  
   
Luke blinks. The words roll over him like water over plastic and he doesn’t absorb any of it. “What?”  
   
Michael huffs and looks frustrated. “Okay. Yeah, it’s – forget I brought it up. It’s stupid.”  
   
“No,” Luke insists. “No, I … I just didn’t … _what_?”  
   
“Don’t hate me now,” Michael whines, pushing his face into the pillow.  
   
“I don’t,” Luke says, and he means it. He could never, ever hate Michael. He loves Michael. As a friend. Or maybe not as a friend.  
   
“I’m such an idiot,” Michael mumbles, and he tries to move away, but Luke grabs him to keep it from happening. They jostle, and Michael ends up even closer than he was before, and one of his legs ends up pushed between Luke’s, and his thigh is pressing into Luke’s crotch and Luke didn’t realize he was half-hard until just now but he is and there’s no way Michael won’t notice.  
   
“Fuck,” Luke swears under his breath.  
   
Michael blinks, slowly, his eyes all wide and shiny. “Oh,” he says, softly.  
   
“I’m sorry,” Luke mutters. He tries to move away this time, and now Michael’s the one who won’t let him.  
   
“Why?”  
   
Luke just shakes his head. He can’t answer. Michael moves his leg, his thigh rubbing against Luke, and Luke whimpers. He wants so much. He didn’t know Michael did too. Michael wasn’t supposed to want him back. It wasn’t supposed to be real.  
   
“Tell me,” Michael whispers. His hand comes up; thumb brushing over Luke’s bottom lip.  
   
“Tell you what?”  
   
“Tell me you want me to kiss you. Otherwise I won’t. I need you to say it first.”  
   
It feels impossible, but Luke hears his own voice, shaky and nowhere near as confident as Michael but at least the words come. “Kiss me.”  
   
Michael smiles, just a little, and he leans in. His lips press into Luke’s, and for just a moment, it’s weird, because it’s Michael and he’s Luke’s best friend and they shouldn’t be doing this. Then Michael’s hand moves down Luke’s back, pulls him in closer, and Luke opens his mouth against Michael’s to deepen it and it isn’t fireworks because it’s not a cheesy love song but it’s something similar. Michael’s such a good kisser, and Luke probably isn’t but maybe it doesn’t matter. Michael’s tongue brushes against his and Luke whimpers again. Then Michael’s thigh pushes harder, friction on Luke’s dick trapped in his pants, and Luke makes a different kind of noise.  
   
“Didn’t think you’d ever …” Michael is mumbling, while his lips are wet and soft against Luke’s. His hand goes up under Luke’s shirt, and his skin burns against Luke’s back.  
   
Luke can’t answer. He wants everything, and his head is spinning and it feels a bit like he’s falling. It’s so embarrassing that he’s hard against Michael’s leg, but Michael’s mouth tastes nice and it all feels so good.  
   
“Can you say something?” Michael asks. He stops kissing, and his eyes are dark when Luke looks into them.  
   
Luke’s mouth opens but words don’t come out.  
   
“Usually you won’t shut up,” Michael teases.  
   
“Sorry,” Luke finally manages to utter.  
   
“Don’t.” Michael frowns again. “How long have you …?”  
   
“I don’t know. A few weeks, maybe.” It feels so dangerous to admit, even after they’ve kissed and Michael’s leg is still against Luke’s crotch. “I’m sorry.”  
   
“Why are you sorry?”  
   
Luke shakes his head. He wishes they could go back to kissing, so they wouldn’t have to talk about this. He’s barely ready to do it, so he’s certainly not ready to talk about it.  
   
“Hey.” Michael kisses his lips again, but it’s comforting this time. “Do you wanna stop?”  
   
“No,” Luke breathes. He’d rather die.  
   
Michael takes his hand, guides it further under the covers and holds it against his own body, between his legs. He’s hard, too. Luke can feel it, warm and solid, under his palm. “See, me too,” Michael says. “It’s okay. I want you too.”  
   
Luke bites his lip again and curls his fingers, squeezing just a little, testing out the feel.  
   
Michael hums, and then he kisses Luke again. It goes from tentative to needy so quickly, and he rolls on top of Luke, drowning him. His tongue is in Luke’s mouth and his hips rock against Luke’s, and Luke can’t breathe properly. He holds around Michael’s back, and he wants to touch everywhere, to learn everything, to have this last forever. Maybe he’s wanted it since the day they met. Maybe he just didn’t know it.  
   
“Michael,” Luke breathes, just saying his name, just for something to anchor himself to. Then he says it again, when his stomach starts clenching and something is going to happen if Michael doesn’t stop and it’s going to be even more embarrassing than popping a boner in bed with his best friend.  
   
Michael doesn’t stop, and Luke moans when it hits him, shudders through it, hot and prickly everywhere. Michael grunts softly and stops moving for just a second, and then grunts again, and Luke is consumed by it. He wants those noises tattooed on his brain, in case there isn’t a next time. He never wants to forget them.  
   
Luke lies there, motionless, and breathes. Michael rolls off him and he’s staring but Luke doesn’t look back until Michael makes him; touching Luke’s chin with his fingers and turning his head. Michael’s hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed. His lips are even redder than before. Luke did that.  
   
“That was okay, right?” Michael worries.  
   
Luke turns onto his side, facing Michael. The mess in his pants is uncomfortable, now, so he reaches down to unbutton them and struggles to kick them off. Michael helps, his fingers brushing against Luke’s dick on accident but then he touches on purpose, and Luke shivers. Michael is his best friend, and he’s touching Luke’s dick and it should be totally weird and gross but instead Luke just wants more.  
   
“Yes,” he answers, minutes after Michael posed the question.  
   
Michael tilts his chin forward and his lips brush Luke’s again, this time gentle and slow.  
   
“I like you,” Luke whispers to him. It’s still a secret, but Michael is allowed to know, now. Even if it’s scary.  
   
“Really?” Michael whispers back.  
   
Luke nods.  
   
Michael laughs a little. “I thought … I thought I was gonna fall madly in love with you or something and you’d never like me back, and then one day years from now I’d accidentally tell you and you’d never talk to me again.”  
   
“I was scared you’d hate me, if you knew,” Luke admits.  
   
Michael’s expression goes serious. “I wouldn’t.”  
   
“What was the dream really about?” Luke asks.  
   
Michael smiles slowly, and blushes. Luke is so unused to the idea that Michael is capable of doubting himself. He sort of likes it, knowing that he can do this. That Michael is all self-assurance and ego until Luke gets involved, and then he’s as nervous and insecure as anyone else.  
   
“Tell me.” Luke smiles too, and hugs his arm around Michael’s waist. This much, they’ve been doing for months. Falling asleep together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. It isn’t something friends are supposed to do, but Luke needed it like air.  
   
“You were blowing me,” Michael says, still flushed but he flashes a cocky grin.  
   
Luke’s face heats up, just a twinge of discomfort at Michael’s brash but mostly arousal and curiosity and the ache to know what it would be like, to do that. What Michael would taste like, how he would feel in Luke’s mouth, the sounds he would make. What it would feel like if Michael did it, too. Then he gets mushy, and imagines what it would be like to hold Michael’s hand in public, at school where everyone could see.  
   
“D’you think you’d wanna do this again, sometime?” Michael asks shyly. “Do other stuff, maybe?”  
   
Luke nods. “Yeah. I want that.”  
   
“Okay. Good. Me too.”  
   
Luke kisses him. He’s properly addicted already, and it’s been less than an hour. It doesn’t really bode well, for how hard he could fall, now that it’s happened. Now that Michael wants it too, and it’s real. But Luke doesn’t want to stop. Michael has nice lips.  
 


End file.
